Where I Live
Here, you can have a picture of my room. I cleaned it just for you. No, I didn't. This is a total lie. My room's a mess right now and this is a shot from a couple years ago when In Style did one of those stupid "Look at where this famous person lives and you never will" articles.
Those things are such a joke, by the way. Some set dresser and a team of harpies show up with a lighting crew and a million cameras and totally rearrange everything to suit their 'vision' and 'aesthetic sense'. I mean, for serious, they went through every single room and made a list of things to either move, remove, situate in another room or just plain puzzle over. Then they cleared things out, changed the layout of every stinking thing and added lights and even plants and decorative crap we don't even own.
When they got done, it didn't even look like our apartment. It was like, hey, this is my stuff...well some of it, and my Da but where the hell did they take these photos?
So, no. I'm not showing you where I live. If you wanna know, go find a copy of the back-dated issue of In Style. Da's on the cover and there's some weird blurb about famous bachelors you should keep an eye on...
Best part? The look on this magazine creature's face when she first saw my room. They had this whole murmured conversation in the hall about not even shooting it. That was the last time Alisha EVER cleaned my room for me.
My pretty picture t.v. but they totally changed the screen saver image I had up there. It was a hot babe with fun boobs like WHOA and they...made it the NYC skyline. Boring.
Yeah, I don't know. She wanted more of a 'natural' lighting look there so they COVERED my window, which is a single pane of glass with an awesome view of Central Park, and put up these light box panels instead. Weird. And horrible.
Two whole photos left on my shelves. One's a picture of me on a horse when I was wee and the other is some stupid not even mine picture of random strangers. What? I think it came in the frame. Normally, those shelves are filled with pictures and knitting crap and well...stuff.
They got rid of my iPod docking station (Boze, come ON) and put some crappy, tacky alarm clock there instead and I don't know what the hell that box is. The thing next to it looks like a bong though and I laughed when the spread was published and people actually wrote in asking if that's what it was. Cue the hysterics of "Rock Star's Son A Real Wild Child, Influenced By DADDY". Fun times. Plus, hahahaha oh, noes. WEED IS SATAN'S GRASS. Ahem. Anyway...
And I have no idea why they think I would leave discs out like that under the t.v., way to ruin things, morons.
Oh, hey. Something that's actually mine! My scrapbooks. I almost had to kill a magazine ho for going through them and talking about a feature article because the layout is so "touching". Step off and leave my Mam alone, okay? Those are mine and not for public consumption.
Behind that wall is actually my bathroom. They crammed all my 'unusable' stuff in there, like my desk and my dresser and my reading chair. Then they hauled it all out and left it willy-nilly in my room to take pictures of my shower. Go figure.
So, there's my room that isn't my room. I think the only thing that looks right is the bed.